


A Guy Like Me A Man Like Him

by TheVerdantSword



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, WIP, idk what i'm doing with this yet, slow burn probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 00:01:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7954183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVerdantSword/pseuds/TheVerdantSword
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hunt goes sour, Cas saves Sam and Dean. Almost loses his life. Dean is angry but won't admit why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Guy Like Me A Man Like Him

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a spur of the moment kind of thing and hey! Howdy do, my first post EVER. I have something in the back of my mind floating around for this but I probably won't post anything else until I have it all planned out.  
> (Slight warning for self-worth issues)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hunt goes sour, Cas saves Sam and Dean. Almost loses his life. Dean is angry but won't admit why.

Dean had been snipping at Castiel all the way to the bunker. Castiel could not for the life of him figure out why Dean was so mad that he had just _saved_ his and Sam’s life _again_. They had found some evidence of demonic activity just outside of their home borders and gone to investigate. These demons had been smart. There was barely any evidence for the sheer number of demons that were housed there. Castiel accidentally tripped one of their alarm systems and they were ‘ _on them like donkey kong,’_ as Dean would so eloquently put it.

Castiel had yelled at Sam and Dean to shield their eyes before he had gone ‘ _supernova’_ to protect them. Sure, it drained more than half of his powers but it had _saved_ them all hadn’t it? He’d managed to transport both Sam and Dean back to the safety of the Impala and Dean hadn’t stopped voicing his opinions on the matter since.

“You sorry bastard! You could have died! Why _why_ would you do something like that?” And to make matters worse, he is turning around in his seat while driving.

“Dean, please concentrate in the road.” He is too tired to try and save the Impala from crunching into anything.

“Don’t order me around, you – ”

“Dean.” Sam’s voice is thick as he nurses the bloodied nose that Castiel wasn’t quick enough to prevent as he puts one hand on Dean’s shoulder and turns him back around to face the front.

Dean is silent for the rest of the ride but he is no less angry than before. It fizzles in the car like a fat sausage on a barbecue about to burst into flame at any moment. 

Much too exhausted to deal with that, Castiel drops off into a deep slumber.

-+-

Dean’s low voice wakes Castiel sometime later. The sun is just peaking over the horizon, spilling swirls of pinkish orange and white across the sky.

“He could have _died_ Sam, don’t you _get_ it?” Dean doesn’t sound any calmer than he was before and Castiel sits up and blearily searches for the source of the voice. He finds Dean standing not too far off from the Impala, a white knuckled grip on his duffel and Sam Standing in front of him with his hands on his hips. Castiel is reminded of a mother scolding her child.

“I _get_ it just fine Dean. But you’re not the only one who cares for Cas.” Dean splutters indignantly, “And at least _try_ to be a little more thankful, will you? This isn’t the first time the poor guy has sacrificed a larger portion of his mojo to save us, Dean. I’m going to have a shower and then go to bed. Look after Cas.” With that, Sam stalks away from Dean, frustration evident in the hunch of his broad shoulders. The bunker door slams.

Cas watches dean drop his duffle and kick it across the dusty ground and start pacing. This goes on for a few minutes until Cas drags himself out of the Impala, almost dropping to the ground again. He is too tired to worry about how this isn't worrying him.

It doesn’t take long for Dean to realise and be at Cas’ side. “Thank you, Dean,” he mutters as Dean gets a hand around Castiel’s waist, shifting his duffel bag more comfortably on his shoulder.

Dean doesn’t say anything as he helps Cas down to the bunker door. Cas is grateful and isn’t so sure that he would be able to listen to anything Dean had to say at this point anyway.

Cas is surprised when Dean isn’t leading him to Cas’ room but his own.

“Dean, where –” Dean rubs a hand on his back and shushes him.  Cas feels his eyes drooping again as Dean takes off his trench coat and jacket.

“Wha – ” Cas tries to say but Dean interrupts him with a gruff, “You wouldn’t be comfortable sleeping in all that tax accountant bullshit.” And dimly, Cas realises this is both Dean’s apology and thank you in one. Taking care of him. Cas tries to fight through the fog but fails to do so as Dean takes off his boots.

The last thing Cas remembers is having a soft cotton shirt pulled down over his head.

-+-

Dean doesn’t sleep that night. He tucks Cas in and sits on the chair usually reserved for Cas. He watches Cas sleep for hours, the events of the past night replaying in his head. Cas’ deep voice telling Sammy and him to cover their eyes before he lit up like the fucking sun.

Dean is still _pissed_ that Cas would ever _think_ of doing something like that. He could have died and Dean would have –

Dean isn’t sure what he would have done but he knows that it would have _hurt_ to have Cas ripped away from him again. He often forgets that Cas isn’t human but he was reminded again last night that he isn’t. But just because Cas isn’t human doesn’t mean that he’s immortal. He remembers how it felt to have Sammy ripped away from him all those times and something in him whispers that it would be a very different kettle of fish were Cas taken away from him.

Not that Dean deserves to have him as a friend, let alone be saved by him.

Dean deserves to be gutter stomped for half the shady shit that he’s done in the name of his family.

It’s another few moments before he realises that his chair is creaking in protest and he glances down at his white-knuckled grip. He takes a deep breath and forces his fists to let go of the arm rests.

Sometime in the early morning, he moves his chair closer to the bed. Cas looks peaceful in his sleep and if one didn't know that angels didn't sleep unless they were seriously depleted of their powers, one would never suspect that Cas was suffering from exactly that.  Just... drained more than half of his life force all in the name of saving Sammy and him. Cas looks so much younger and more innocent in his sleep that it makes something in Dean’s chest clench sharply. Dean finds he has the urge to run his hands through Cas’ hair. He wonders if it’s as soft as it looks. It had always been wind-blown in some shape or form, almost like –

But Dean refused to call it that. Never even let himself think it. Would Cas mind if Dean did this while he slept? Would Cas even want Dean touching him as Dean was angry with him – still is angry with him – about before?

He considers it for a few more minutes, going to reach out but snatching his hand back in against his chest like Cas might electrocute him or something.

“This is stupid.” Dean mutters. He forces out a shaking hand (that just serves to make him even more pissed at himself) and stiffens as the very tips of his fingers come into contact with Cas’ hair. Cas doesn’t stir. He lets his hand rest on Cas’ hair at first and it’s as soft as he thought it would be. Dean tentatively cards his hand through his hair, watching Cas’ face for any reaction. He doesn’t stir. So Dean loses himself in carding his fingers through Cas’ hair.

He thinks he doses off at one stage and he jerks himself awake and continues to card his fingers through Cas’ hair. Dean almost snatches his hand back when Cas moves but melts again as Cas leans into Dean’s hand, as if he were a sleepy kitten.

A small smile graces Dean’s face and he hums tunelessly, stubbornly ignoring the feeling in his chest.

Dean’s eyes slide closed for a second time and he doesn’t jerk awake until Sammy comes in with a bacon and egg sandwich, just the way Dean likes it. Sammy doesn’t say anything, just gives him a tired, meaningful look and walks out, closing the door behind him.

Dean doesn’t leave Cas’ side at all.

 

-+-

Castiel isn’t sure how long he’s been asleep for. He’s not sure if he dreamed the feeling of someone carding their fingers through his hair or not but it was not an unpleasant thing to feel.

He sits up and looks around blearily, working his vessel’s dry throat.

He is in Dean’s room?

A frown briefly creases his face as he tries to remember how he got here.

Oh.

That’s right, he’d saved Sam and Dean’s life again.

But before he can get angry again, he remembers Dean caring for him and tucking him in before he dropped off completely.

Speaking of, where is Dean now?

“Dean?” He croaks, his throat is still dry. He works his vessel’s throat again to try and dispel the uncomfortable feeling.

Dean isn’t in the room and Castiel tries not feel upset by that.

He looks down at his vessel and finds a soft cotton shirt in place of his normal clothing choice. He tries standing and he finds that he can. He looks around the room in search of his normal clothes, but shrugs Dean’s robe on when he doesn’t find anything.

He then opens the door and looks around, hoping to find either Sam or Dean.

He doesn’t. So he wonders down into the war room where the two men can most often be found. Sam is seated at the table, some sort of hot drink in his hand as he navigates his way through his _laptop_. Castiel had thought it a funny thing to call such a contraption until he had seen Sam swaddled in a blanket and the laptop propped up on his lap, sipping what he had called _hot cocoa._ Cas remembers asking Sam why hot cocoa? Why not cold cocoa? Or lukewarm cocoa? Sam had laughed and explained to Cas that it was a traditional hot drink to help stay warm in the colder weather.

“Sam?” he croaks and Sam almost jumps out of his seat, narrowly avoiding spilling coffee down his shirt.

“Cas?” he turns to see Cas and his eyebrows lift into his hairline and he scrambled to disentangle himself from his seat, “You’re awake! Do you want anything at all?”

“My vessel’s throat seems to be a little dry, some water would suffice please.” Cas follows Sam into the kitchen.

“Where is Dean?” He asks as Sam hands a cool glass of water to him.

Sam chuckles, “I told him to go have a shower.” Sam crinkled his nose, “Smelled like a sewer.”

That meant –

“How long have I been sleeping?” Sam’s face goes serious and he fidgets like a small child caught red–handed. It never fails to surprise Castiel how such a tall man could look like a small child. “About four days now…” He looks at the ground as he says it.

“Oh.”

“Uh, yeah… Dean’s been worried sick and hasn’t left your side. Never mind that he says it’s only because you were in his bed.”

Castiel sits down at the table and sips at his drink. Sam fidgets and shifts on his feet before sitting down across from Cas.

“Thanks for uh,” Sam clears his throat, “saving us and all.” He finishes sincerely.

Cas grunts in acknowledgment. At least one of the Winchesters is grateful.

It’s not long before both can here Dean thundering down the stairs of the bunker yelling out for Cas.

Cas calls out a simple, “In the kitchen.” before sipping from his glass again.

Dean comes running into the kitchen, huffing and Cas doesn’t miss the meaningful look Sam gives Dean. He stands up, announcing that he has to go back to his research.

 

Dean stands in the doorway awkwardly before striding over to take Sam’s place across from Cas.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas looks up into Dean’s green eyes to find him frowning, staring at Cas like he is an annoying thorn in his side. Cas feels sadness wash over him as he prepares himself to be yelled at for saving Dean’s life.

“I thought you’d fluttered off on me.” Dean fails to keep the accusing tone at bay. Cas sighs, irritably. 

“You doin’ okay, buddy?” He asks and Cas almost thinks it’s sincere.

“Fine.” He clips, unsure why he is suddenly angry.

It was obviously the wrong thing to say as Dean bristles.

“What’s up your ass?” Dean asks as he stands up to frown down at Castiel.

And Cas has had enough.

“What’s ‘up my ass’?” He air quotes, standing up to look Dean in the eye. Dean balks slightly and Cas feels a primal savage satisfaction. It was always about Dean being the one in power. Dean often forgets that Castiel isn’t human or just a tool. It was time that Cas reminded him so.

Cas stalks around the table to point an accusing finger at Dean. “What’s ‘up my ass’ is that you are so ungrateful that you dare yell at me for _saving_ both yours _and_ Sam’s life, let alone being even  _thankful_.”

Cas can see the anger in Dean’s eyes soar to a new height and now Dean is the one to get into Cas’ personal space.

“Don’t patronise me, buddy, you could have died! What would Sammy and me have done then, huh?”

Castiel isn’t sure why but his vessels eyes are stinging. He hopes he's not about to cry.“What? Without your tool? You’d find another angel.” Cas bites out bitterly and stalks over to the fridge and crosses his arms, glaring at the dining table. He’s not sure what he’s feeling but he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t know what to do with it and he wants to scream.

Dean looks shocked out of the corner of Castiel’s eyes for a few seconds. But then he pulls himself together again and is right up in Castiel’s personal space in the blink of an eye radiating pure _furry_.

“Is that how you feel?” Dean demands. “Is that how you _really_ feel?”

Cas can feel himself glaring pure rage at Dean. “Dean,” he starts flatly, “how else am I supposed to feel when all you ever call me down for is when you need something? How is it that you have never comprehended that I couldn’t come down for your every beck and call because I was fighting a _war_ in heaven? Or trying to save the goddamn _planet_?” Cas grabs Dean’s shoulders and slams him into the fridge before surprise can register on Dean’s face. He face is nose to nose with Dean’s as he says in a low voice, “All I am to you and all I ever will be to you is just a – ”

“That is _not_ how I feel Cas.” Dean interrupts quietly. His eyes are raw with an emotion that Castiel cannot read. Dean doesn’t move under Cas’ grip but he does look down at their feet.

“I know I haven’t been the best to you and – and I see that now but I just –”

“You just _what_ Dean?”

Dean shifts uncomfortably but Cas finds he can’t let go and it feels like a rock is settling in his vessel’s stomach. Dean looks back up into Cas’ face.

“Why would you sacrifice yourself for someone like me? Sammy I get but – ” Cas suddenly feels so sad and angry for Dean all at once that his grace starts to fizzle and his vessel’s throat closes up.

It’s hard to choke out a soft “Dean.” But he manages it.

“Don’t tell me I’m a good person Cas, I know’m not.” Dean mutters, looking down again. But Cas lifts his chin, not letting him. He’s had just about enough of this too. Despite feeling like just a tool to the Winchesters, it never hindered his readiness to help them because they were _great_ men and Castiel often found it hard to believe that either man felt the way that they did about themselves. Anything bad that they ever did was not their fault. Anything these men ever did was with the best intentions in mind and no thought for their own safety or even survival. Emotion fills his chest again and with a sinking feeling, he realises just what it is. He is in love with Dean Winchester. The righteous man.

“Dean, you are one of the most _amazing_ men I have ever had the opportunity to meet. I think you often forget that you are the righteous man and that both you and your brother saved the world more than twice. That in itself is a feat all on its own, Dean.”

Dean tries to look down again, “Cas – ”

“No Dean. You are going to listen to _me_ for a change.”

Dean looks into Cas’ eyes again and Cas can see the tears brimming there. He frames Dean's face in his hands and wipes away a stray tear.

“Dean, I’ve seen the way you care for your brother and people like Charlie and Kevin. You may not say that you love them but you do in your own ways.”

“I’ve killed people, Cas.” Dean chokes out, another tear falling.

“Dean, I’ve killed my own blood.” Cas stares into Dean’s eyes and he finds it hurts him to think that Dean thinks so lowly of himself. “Dean, you and your brother are the people I care most deeply about. You are my family. I find myself not caring that I am just a tool –”

“Cas –”

“If there is something I know about you and your brother, you are _good men_ and I’d as soon as die than see the same fate befall you.” Dean’s eyes fill with anger again.

“Don’t you see Cas?” He thunders, “That’s almost exactly what you did and I don’t know if I’d’ve been able to live with myself afterwards! Because I’m starting to think – ”

But Dean cuts himself off. Cas’ chest suddenly bursts with emotion without his permission.

“That you what, Dean?” Cas’ voice is soft and somewhat vulnerable as he searches Dean’s eyes.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dean shoves away from Cas and Cas ignores the hurt this causes, “but I’m not worth saving Cas. Never have been.”

“Dean, I just told you why you are indeed, worth saving. I hate that you think so lowly of yourself. I’d like to strangle those who made you feel this way. I’m not exactly honourable either, if it helps Dean.”

Dean lets out a bark of laughter, “No, you’re not the person with the cleanest hands. And what do you care if I think I’m a steaming pile of horse shit?”

Cas gets mad all over again. _What_ is it going to _take_ before he can help Dean see that he is a _great_ man and that Cas is –

Cas stops himself from finishing that thought and marches over to Dean and shoves him to the wall, boxing him in again.

“You are so infuriating, Dean. I truly wish you could see yourself as I do. A man without sin. And I would have died happily if it meant you got to keep living because I don't wish to live in a world where Dean Winchester doesn't!”

Something flickers over Dean’s face but before Cas can guess what it is, Dean licks his lips nervously and brushes his surprisingly soft lips against Cas’. It’s a sweet innocent chaste little thing but it sends Castiel’s grace fizzing and whirring through him in a way it hasn’t in a long time. He feels his vessel’s heart sore and lungs seize up and he’s dizzy all at once.

“Oh.” Is all Castiel has time to breathe before Dean, once again, slithers out of Castiel’s hold and bolts for the kitchen door, muttering a ‘Sorry’ over his shoulder as he goes.


End file.
